THE LONG TRAIL TO SAIN NOIN KHAN 91 



tent. Even though it was the fifth of June, there was 

 a sharp frost during the night, and we were thankful 

 for our fur sleeping bags. 



Always in Mongolia after a heavy rain the air is crys- 

 tal-clear, and we had a delightful morning beside the 

 river. Hundreds of demoiselle cranes were feeding in 

 the meadowlike valley bottom where the grass was as 

 green as emeralds. We saw two of the graceful birds 

 standing on a sand bar and, as we rode toward them, 

 they showed not the slightest sign of fear. When we 

 were not more than twenty feet away they walked slowly 

 about in a circle, and the lama discovered two spotted 

 brown eggs almost under his pony's feet. There was no 

 sign of a nest, but the eggs were perfectly protected by 

 their resemblance to the stones. 



Our way led close along the Tola River, and just be- 

 fore tiffin we saw a line of camels coming diagonally 

 toward us from behind a distant hiU. I wish you could 

 have seen that caravan in all its barbaric splendor as it 

 wound across the vivid green plains. Three lamas, 

 dressed in gorgeous yellow robes, and two, in flaming 

 red, rode ahead on ponies. Then neck and neck, 

 mounted on enormous camels, came four men in gowns 

 of rich maroon and a woman flashing with jewels and 

 silver. Behind them, nose to tail, was the long, brown 

 line of laden beasts. It was like a painting of the Mid- 

 dle Ages — like a picture of the days of Kublai Khan, 

 when the Mongol court was the most splendid the world 

 has ever seen. My wife and I were fascinated, for this 

 was the Mongolia of our dreams. 



